


Force-ful(l)

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Multi, POV Second Person, The Force Ships It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25666135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: You are in everything.
Relationships: Leia Organa/Rey/Luke Skywalker/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3
Collections: Rare Pairs Exchange 2020





	Force-ful(l)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aurae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurae/gifts).



You are in _everything_. You are in those who do not know you, but most of all, you are in those who reach out to touch you, because everything has its equal and opposite reaction, and you touch _back_... 

The boy's mind spills out from his lush planetary garden. No gate could hold him. He has always been _viscerally_ aware of the darkness between the the stars, and how empty it is not. He demands to be as full, always, as that darkness, and since his earliest understanding of you, you have _obliged_ him.

If he doesn't understand why his mother and his uncle, who are not innocent of you, do not make the same fierce demands of the darkness... Yet, he does. He understood, or could have understood. He will, or won't understand. He does understand - it's all the same to you. Your moments press into each other with an almost _human_ desperation and you have always wanted all of them to be as close to each other as they are to _you_.

But always at that point of perfect union, they flee each other. Perhaps they have a reason for that, and it is that they feel your influence too cannily: they know that it is _your_ will that drives them towards each other, not their nascent, native own.

The brother, the sister: forging lives resolutely parallel. The mother, the son: enacting subtle rebellions against each other, because the one is too bound by _duty_ , the other too bound by _luxury_ , to dare any other rebellion except against these whom they hold most dear. The uncle, the nephew: each demands of the other that he will define for him his place in the world, and this sciomachy has never been pure of _prurience_.

And then the fourth, their sister, daughter, scion in the Force.

 _You_ made her out of light.

But you do not understand your own aspects as _they_ do. If the part of you that is Light and the part of you that is Dark are separated and distinct, then _always_ , these parts of you have sought combination and commingling. And if these Jedi, these Sith, refuse to allow you union within them, then you will drive together those who champion your aspects, to meet in flesh and mind.

You made her out of light, to tempt those who would deny the darkness in _themselves_.

Time barely matters to you; space means less. Death is a permeable boundary. But thoughts and dreams are as tangible as caresses, as violent and tender. Those who are yours dream of you, and you make your dreams of _them_. Their dreams grant you ecstatic coupling in your aspects, and you return the favor, linking them with ever subtler and suppler chains.

Luke flees into lightless space, and dreams of absolution. He dreams of his brightest, darkest student laying strokes of _pain_ across his skin, stroking his skin with intolerable kindness, his sticky, stocky cock nuzzling unmercifully between Luke's thighs. The dreams of a desert girl that replace them are no kinder - whether she takes Luke's place taking Ben's cock, or takes Luke's own cock into her body. And when Luke does not see Ben, he sees _Leia_.

Rey imagines herself surrounded, held high, held low. Long after giving up on _parents_ , she finds herself a family, or something _closer_ than family. A gaze that has out-stared emperors and idiots, death and surprise, and looks on her kindly. A sure, callused hand whose fingers could twist wickedly in her moist hairs, if she would let them. You offer her all of this. You offer her the hope of so much love and desire that she need not ration it, but instead could _share_. And be shared.

You send her dreams of witnessing, of shameless self-knowledge achieved under substantiating _sight_. 

She could bring the lost boy home, but the burden is not _hers_ to take alone. Perhaps, as Ben's tongue worships and probes her, he will spell within her sweetness his _mother's_ name. 

Leia was not built for laying burdens down, and yet if she could, you know her _strength_ would still surprise them, as it has never surprised _you_. She would be the first to dare to give voice to her desires. If only you could convince her that the will of all accords with hers... You would like to _give_ to her her brother, her son, her student, to be _hers_ as they should always have been. As they _have_ always been. You know what they want: you _are_ their wants, and that existence is simple and absolute and clean, however much they may believe it is the opposite.

Ben understands you the most, and the least, and has been pushing you away as long as he has been reaching out to you: a _balance_ that grieves you. He _wants_ to use you, and is wary of how eager _you_ are to be used. He tells himself he wants to be Rey's mentor, and does not understand that it is a displacement, a poor substitute for all the things he longed to teach Luke, reversing the mentor bond, by and with force. Perhaps he admits to himself that he seeks Rey's sweetness as that of a mother, but there he lacks only Leia. He would be satisfied entirely with his hair falling across her thighs and her hair falling across his, mouths both busy.

You offer them visions of flushed skin, echoes of desperate moans and surprised, stolen laughter. You give to Leia and Luke a vision of Rey and Ben, _together, intimate_ , and you share with them that _sharing_ , so each knows that that the other sees and knows.

And as you have offered, so must they give _back_. They give to you and each other their longing, their desperation, their denial, their dreaming entire. They create visions in the Force that soar and swoop and swell: Ben and Luke each sucking at Leia's breasts and fingering her cunt while Rey rides Leia's face, her hands in the others' hair. Ben's knee between Leia's thighs while Luke fucks him, fucking his sister through the movements he causes her son's thigh to make against his sister's cunt, while Rey dips her fingers in Leia's mouth and then offers the shallow curve of her palm to meet Ben's wild thrusts.

They may deny the Light side of you; they may deny the dark. They may not deny you satisfaction, nor may they deny _themselves_.


End file.
